Melanie is a 22-year old college student with dark, extremely curly hair. She is short with C-Cup breasts, ripped abs, and an athletic ass and legs. She likes to feminize men, especially older men. After dressing them up, she likes to fuck them with her strap-on to complete the feminization experience.

Chapter 1: Harness and Hesitation

Melanie’s bedroom door clicked shut behind them, muffling the street noise and sealing them in soft light. "You know the drill, sugar," she said, her voice all low warmth as she gestured to the center of the plush rug, tossing her bag onto the velvet chaise. "Everything goes in the basket." She watched him, arms crossed, as his trembling fingers fumbled with the first button of his sensible plaid shirt. The slow reveal of his pale, ordinary torso was a familiar ritual, a necessary stripping-away of the outside world before the true scene could begin. He placed the folded clothes in the wicker hamper with a quiet solemnity that made her soften, just for a second.

She knelt before him on the rug, the jasmine oil already warming in her palms. “Look at you,” she murmured, her thumbs smoothing over the gray-flecked hair on his chest. The razor glinted in the fairy light as she began, with practised, gentle strokes, to clear a path down his sternum. “Always so much quieter once the clothes come off,” she said, not unkindly, watching the old sadness deepen in his downcast eyes. She rinsed the blade in a bowl of warm water with a soft plink, then tapped his chin with her finger. “Head up, buttercup. Let me see that pretty face.”plLet me see that pretty face.” His gaze met hers, liquid and shy in the teardrop lamplight, and a familiar thrill ran up her spine. “Here we go,” she whispered, grabbing the shimmering purple harness from the bed and sliding her legs through the leather straps. The cool silicone gleamed as she adjusted the fit, her leather-clad knees sinking into the mattress on either side of his hips. “Tonight, you’re not Tim at all,” she said, her polished nail tracing a slow line down his newly smooth chest to the elastic waistband of his simple cotton briefs.

“Tonight, you’re not Tim at all,” she said, her polished nail tracing a slow line down his newly smooth chest to the elastic waistband of his simple cotton briefs. With a soft, final push, she hooked her fingers into the waistband and guided them down his hips until he lay completely naked before her. Her gaze drifted down, and a short, sharp laugh escaped her lips. “Oh, sweetheart,” she sighed, the sound a mix of genuine amusement and theatrical pity. With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she tossed the briefs aside and tapped the tiny, limp cock with one cool, polished nail.